The Price To Pay.
It's been 2 months plus since I settled down in this new place. I wouldn't say I'm unhappy but I wouldn't say I'm happy here either.
You see, I was spoilt when I first moved to London. I lived in a fantastic studio, albeit a tiny one, and the transport links were just brilliant. Everything was brand new. Of course, the drawback was the amount of moolah I had to fork out every month. Everyone who asked about the price of the studio almost had their eyes popped out when I told them the rent. I had friends coming around almost every weekend. Life was good but the health of my bank account deteriorated. Badly.
And then I moved out from the studio 10 months later. I lived with J. It wasn't a bad experience. Come to think about it, I did enjoy staying with her because she was always there, physically. There was never a day that went past without me stepping into her room. But it was too far away from central London and the condition of the flat was bad- the toilet started leaking towards the end of the tenancy and I saw a mouse(!!!!!) in the flat! The relationship between the landlord and us ended bitterly.
And here I am, blogging from my new flat. Every weekend, I found myself at the verge of becoming crazy. I have no one to talk to in this flat. If I don't ring anyone, I end up not talking the whole day. Don't even mention seeing human! I live with a couple who owns the flat. I have no idea what their jobs are- the landlady seems rather reluctant to tell me about their jobs. But, I'm extremely sure they're NOT drug dealers or pimps. :P We're not particularly close. Occassionaly, the landlady and I can talk for an hour about current issues and holidays. But that's like once a month or so. The longest conversation I ever had with the landlord was about the snow and the Meteorology. That was like, 2 months ago? Or was it last month?
You see my problem now?
I realised that for the past years, I was always close to my flatmate(s). We shared a lot of tears and laughters. We went shopping together and cooked together. We argued and slammed doors.
When I visited my friends, I felt so happy and secretly wished that I could live with them. I could see us doing so many things together. I could see myself happier if I were to live there.
But I'm too stubborn to give up city life for Zone 2/3. I'm too stubborn to give up excellent bus routes for DLR and tube.
And that, is the price to pay to live in Central London.
I do regret it sometimes. Like now, for example.
You see, I was spoilt when I first moved to London. I lived in a fantastic studio, albeit a tiny one, and the transport links were just brilliant. Everything was brand new. Of course, the drawback was the amount of moolah I had to fork out every month. Everyone who asked about the price of the studio almost had their eyes popped out when I told them the rent. I had friends coming around almost every weekend. Life was good but the health of my bank account deteriorated. Badly.
And then I moved out from the studio 10 months later. I lived with J. It wasn't a bad experience. Come to think about it, I did enjoy staying with her because she was always there, physically. There was never a day that went past without me stepping into her room. But it was too far away from central London and the condition of the flat was bad- the toilet started leaking towards the end of the tenancy and I saw a mouse(!!!!!) in the flat! The relationship between the landlord and us ended bitterly.
And here I am, blogging from my new flat. Every weekend, I found myself at the verge of becoming crazy. I have no one to talk to in this flat. If I don't ring anyone, I end up not talking the whole day. Don't even mention seeing human! I live with a couple who owns the flat. I have no idea what their jobs are- the landlady seems rather reluctant to tell me about their jobs. But, I'm extremely sure they're NOT drug dealers or pimps. :P We're not particularly close. Occassionaly, the landlady and I can talk for an hour about current issues and holidays. But that's like once a month or so. The longest conversation I ever had with the landlord was about the snow and the Meteorology. That was like, 2 months ago? Or was it last month?
You see my problem now?
I realised that for the past years, I was always close to my flatmate(s). We shared a lot of tears and laughters. We went shopping together and cooked together. We argued and slammed doors.
When I visited my friends, I felt so happy and secretly wished that I could live with them. I could see us doing so many things together. I could see myself happier if I were to live there.
But I'm too stubborn to give up city life for Zone 2/3. I'm too stubborn to give up excellent bus routes for DLR and tube.
And that, is the price to pay to live in Central London.
I do regret it sometimes. Like now, for example.
I know what you mean. that's the reason why I chose not to stay too far from the city and it's a MUST to have public transport right outside my doorstep, to whisk me away to anywhere I want. all that's missing is a housemate, but then again, I like my own private space...
after I move out next week from my uncle's, I think I might not have anyone to talk to over the weekends except for salesgirls... :( I'd better keep a few phone numbers handy!
Posted by
may |
01:44
I too was spoilt when I was in living in London.. South Kensington summore! It was two years of fun! In a huge Students' Digs, with thousands of flatmates literally.. Maybe I should blog abt that too this month! I know, I keep saying your posts inspires me, and then I forget to do anything about it.. *sigh*
Posted by
L B |
05:21